brave
by professortennant
Summary: coda to 2.10: "So, what did you wish for?" He gestured to the ravaged cake and burned candles. Jean blushed as she thought back to his gentle Bravo and wondered how she could ever explain her wish to him. She smiled coyly. "Lucien, you know if I tell you the wish won't come true."


Jean watched as Lucien cleared away the plates and half-eaten pieces of cake. He had kept her in the chair with a firm hand on her shoulder and a soft smile. "Let me take care of this for once, Jean."

And now here he was, bustling about the kitchen, humming softly to himself and casting the occasional smile at Jean, still sitting at the table. She propped her chin in her hands and watched him work, reaching out to swipe some of the icing off of Mattie's delicious (if inelegantly decorated) cake.

She popped her finger into her mouth and sucked the sweet confection, sighing happily. Looking up at the doctor, wondering why the humming had stopped, she found him standing in the middle of the kitchen, slack-jawed, and wide-eyed. Self-consciously, she pulled her finger from her mouth with a blush and wiped it on the nearby napkin.

There was the quiet, heavy intimacy looming over them again. Her mind flashed back to the sunroom with his hands on her face and his eyes flickering to her lips. She was so, so sure then he was going to kiss her. But the phone-and perhaps her own fears-had prevented it.

* * *

Lucien cleared his throat and slung the the kitchen towel over this shoulder, all dishes finally put away, and took a seat next to Jean at the table. Settling himself beside her, he leaned back, not wanting the night to end.

"So, what did you wish for?" He gestured to the ravaged cake and burned candles.

Jean blushed as she thought back to his gentle _Bravo_ and wondered how she could ever explain her wish to him. She smiled coyly. "Lucien, you know if I tell you the wish won't come true."

He waggled a finger at her. "Now that's not entirely true. My mother used to say you have to share your dreams and wishes with others because they're the ones who can help you make them come true."

Jean covered his hand with hers and squeezed gently. lending him strength. She knew how hard it was for him to bring up his mother and she appreciated the effort. "She sounds like a wise woman, your mum."

She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and felt her own hand become encased between both of his, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles over the back of her hand. "She was, Jean." He continued stroking her skin in an abstract manner. "She would have loved you."

Jean bit her lip, touched as the soft confession. Sighing, she leaned forward, desperate to bring Lucien out of the darkness that almost always enveloped him whenever he thought of his mother.

"Alright, I'll tell you."

Lucien's head snapped up and he looked at her with bright, curious eyes. Jean had to stifle a laugh. He looked like an overeager puppy that had just been presented with a new toy.

"I wished for bravery."

Lucien laughed, "Come off it!"

Jean's face fell, his laughter stinging. She had been honest and he had laughed at her. It must have registered on her face because Lucien was stopped immediately and resumed his careful stroking of her hand. "Jean? I'm sorry, I thought you were joking."

She shook her head, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "No, Lucien. We can't all confront murderers on a daily basis, so excuse me if bravery seems farfetched for you." Her tone was clipped and brushed with the remnants of hurt. How could he think her silly after everything they had been through?

"Oh, Jeannie." Her heart leapt at the casual nickname. "I'm not laughing because I think it's farfetched. I laughed because, to me, you're one of the bravest people I know."

She scoffed, pulling away from him. "I think it's finally time we cut back on your scotch." She dropped her eyes to her lap and played with the hem of her blouse.

Lucien frowned. "You don't believe me." It wasn't a question. It was clear from the way she wouldn't look at him and the ready way she brushed him off.

Jean rolled her eyes, "Lucien, I am a housekeeper and a mother. I have the same breakfast every morning and I wear the same clothes. I never, I never," she licked her lips, nervously, thinking back to their near-kiss the other day. "I never stray from what's expected of me." She shrugged.

Lucien was looking at her with a furrowed brow and sharp eyes. "Just a housekeeper and mother? Jean," he laughed, disbelieving. "Jean, you lost your husband and picked up the pieces alone and ran a farm and raised two boys all alone. You sat with my father in his last days and kept his spirits up."

He hooked his finger under her chin and turned her face towards his, desperate to see her eyes. He needed to ensure she heard him when he said this. "And you deal with me every day. I know I'm not an easy man to live with and I caused- _cause_ -you a lot of grief, but you stayed. Out of everyone, you stayed."

His voice was soft and gentle and he moved his fingers from her chin and brushed them against her cheek, catching a tear that had fallen from her eye.

Jean sniffed, overwhelmed and reached up to press his hand more firmly against her cheek, turning into his touch. And just like that, they were back in the sunroom and the anticipation of _something_ happening hung over them.

 _Be brave._

 _"_ Lucien, I think I need to be a little braver."

Before she could second-guess herself, before she could consider the consequences, she leaned forward, hands curling into the lapel of his dinner jacket, and tugged him forward so she could press her lips to his.

Lucien stiffened in her arms and for a heartbreaking second, she thought she had ruined everything; had misread the tension building between them. As she readied herself to pull back and profusely apologize, Lucien was kissing her back, groaning against her mouth. One of his hands tangled in her hair while the other clutched at her back, pulling closer.

Jean sighed in relief and forced herself to pull away, taking in deep breaths of much needed oxygen. Lucien kept hold of her, his forehead dropping to rest on hers.

"Jean?" His breath ghosted over her lips and she shivered.

She hummed in response, fingers playing with the curling hair at the nape of his neck.

"Bravo."


End file.
